


Forty Weeks

by mardemaravilla



Series: This Little Life Inside Of You [11]
Category: Football RPF
Genre: Birth, Chelsea FC, M/M, Mpreg, Mpreg Birth, Mystery Character(s), Pregnancy, Unplanned Pregnancy, labour and delivery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-18
Updated: 2018-02-18
Packaged: 2019-03-21 01:53:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13730613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mardemaravilla/pseuds/mardemaravilla
Summary: "Juan," he shakes the man sleeping peacefully beside him. "Juan, wake up.""¿Qué pasa, mi amor?"He slurs drowsily."My water broke. The baby's coming."





	Forty Weeks

When Fernando is forty weeks and three days pregnant, he wakes up feeling wet. The glowing numbers on the nightstand clock tell him that it's 4:36 am, and he can't figure out what's going on until he feels a strong cramp in his abdomen.

He reaches over to turn the lamp on and finds a large wet spot on the sheets.

"Juan," he shakes the man sleeping peacefully beside him. "Juan, wake up."

 _"¿Qué pasa, mi amor?"_ He slurs drowsily.

"My water broke. The baby's coming."

Juan bolts upright immediately, flinging the covers off of himself. He jumps out of bed, staring at Fernando's belly and the stain of amniotic fluid on the sheets.

"Okay. Okay. Oh my God, okay. Okay, what do we do??"

Fernando has the presence of mind to laugh, "Get over here and help me out of bed."

Juan rushes over and Fernando gets up, kissing him softly.

"Calm down. Help me change the sheets and then I'll call the doctor."

Juan stares, confused and flustered and then shakes his head.

"No, you call the doctor now. I'll take care of the sheets."

Fernando waddles into the bathroom and shucks off his soaked pyjama pants, rubbing himself dry with a towel. He feels surprisingly calm as he shuffles back into the bedroom looking for his phone.

The doctor answers on the second ring and asks Fernando a few questions.

"What colour was the fluid?"

"It was clear."

"Completely clear, or were there any spots of colour in it?"

Fernando glances at the damp pile of sheets Juan has dumped on the floor, and at the wet spot on the bare mattress.

"Completely clear, no colour at all."

"That's perfect," she yawns and apologises. "Have you had any contractions?"

"So far, just the one that woke me up."

"And what time was that?"

"Four thirty-six."

"How would you describe it? Was it a big or a little one?"

Fernando tries to think about it comparatively.

"It was stronger than a Braxton-Hicks."

"And how long did it last?"

"Uh, I'm not sure. A couple of seconds maybe?"

"Can you give me your best estimate?"

"Maybe fifteen seconds?"

His doctor hums on the line, "Everything is sounding good so far. Now, I understand that you might be feeling a bit anxious and excited; this is the last stretch, after all, but I don't want you to get frantic and rush around, okay? Take your time, have a shower, have a good breakfast and then go to the hospital. It's really important to not work yourself up, Fernando. We don't want your blood pressure to increase, so just take it easy. I'll phone the hospital and have them prepare your private room. Give me another call once you get settled in so I can check on your progress, all right?"

Fernando agrees and thanks her kindly before hanging up the phone. He relays the information to Juan, who has abandoned his work with the sheets to listen to Fernando's half of the conversation.

"You heard her; don't panic," Juan says, totally ignoring his own instruction. "Go on and shower. Wait, will you be okay? Will you manage? How are you feeling? Can you stand up for long? Should I run a bath for you? Is it even safe to have a bath now that your water is broken?"

"Juan," Fernando intones, stern but fond. "You need to stay calm too. My back hurts, but I can manage in the shower just fine. I just want you to relax."

Juan nods and Fernando kisses him reassuringly before heading back into the bathroom. He climbs into the shower, washing any uncomfortable residue from his thighs and letting the water run hot over his aching back muscles. He lathers up with the fancy organic soap Olalla gave him as a baby shower gift, and the scent wakes him up a little more, invigorating him and allowing a thread of excitement to unspool inside of him.

He's so close. Every minute, every moment takes him a little bit closer to the one when he can finally hold his baby in his arms. He's so excited. In spite of everything, this child has been his sunshine and his starlight and Fernando wants nothing more than to finally get to know the wonderful creature that has lived beneath his heart and buoyed him with hope for almost a year.

He gets out of the shower and dries himself before wrapping the towel low around his hips. As he brushes his teeth, he turns this way and that, admiring the reflection of his belly in the mirror, soaking in the last time he will see his baby like this.

Just as he's rinsing his mouth, a strong pain twists through his lower back and abdomen, leaving him clutching the countertop and panting for breath. It's more painful than the last one and he has to wait long seconds for it to pass before he can make it back into the bedroom. In there, he finds Juan waving a hairdryer over the bare mattress.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm drying the mattress so I can put fresh sheets on. You'll probably be tired when you get back from the hospital, so it's best if I just do it now so you won't have to wait."

Fernando shakes his head and laughs, "Go shower, _cariño_. We can head off to the hospital soon."

Juan seems anxious enough to accept the command without hesitation, and so he quickly turns the hair-dryer off before going into the bathroom. When Juan can no longer see him, Fernando dabs the mostly-dry spot with his towel and makes the bed up with clean sheets. He dresses himself in a loose sweater and a pair of sweatpants and makes his way into the kitchen to find something to eat.

He's a little surprised by the intensity of his last contraction, but he's been on the supporting end of this process twice already, so he has a fairly good idea of what to expect.

His Braxton-Hicks contractions have been coming for the past month, which made Juan insist on getting a hospital bag ready a few weeks ago. The pain was uncomfortable at first, but now Fernando just feels a flutter of excitement with each cramp, knowing that he's getting closer and closer to the end. Although he's been enjoying his pregnancy recently, he's looking forward to being able to walk without waddling just as much as he is looking forward to having his baby here.

He puts some bread to toast and heats up a skillet for bacon and eggs. Juan rushes in five minutes later, hair still dripping wet, his t-shirt not even pulled all the way down his chest.

"Fer, you made the bed?! Are you okay? What are you doing? How do you feel? Are you ready? Should we go?"

Fernando stirs the pan on the stove, laughing quietly at his partner's panic.

"Juan, please, you're going to stress me out with all this fussing. The doctor told me to eat, so let's have some food and relax a little bit and then we can go to the hospital."

Juan looks momentarily lost, but then he guides Fernando away from the stove and takes over the cooking.

"Fine, but then you sit and let me do everything."

Fernando complies, understanding Juan's need to be helpful in this situation, so he sips a mug of warm milk and thanks Juan with a kiss when he serves the food. He gets another contraction midway through the meal that makes Juan almost tip his coffee over in his attempt to comfort him. After they eat, Juan washes the dishes and Fernando decides to call his parents.

"Fernando? It's early! Is everything okay?" His father greets him worriedly.

In the background, Fernando can hear his mother's sleepy voice asking the same thing and then the fumble of fingers against buttons as they groggily try to put the phone on speaker.

"Sorry to wake you, I just wanted to let you know that my water broke and we're leaving for the hospital now."

Fernando thinks his mother yelps.

" _Hijo_ , are you all right? How are you feeling?" Jose asks.

"I'm fine, Papá. I spoke to the doctor already and she said everything seems good, and to just take our time."

"Is Juan with you?" Flori sounds a little more awake. "How is he doing?"

"Yeah, he's here. He's a little flustered, but we just had some breakfast and now we're about to head out."

His parents give him reassurances and fuss excitedly before they hang up. Fernando has promised to keep them updated throughout the labour, and they have a flight booked for next week, which Fernando appreciates. They want to see their new grandchild, but they also want to give Fernando time and space to enjoy his newborn.

His _newborn,_.

It's outrageous that in just a few hours his baby will be here, out in the wide world and not cradled deep within Fernando's body anymore.

Juan exits the kitchen, a little calmer than before, but still very attentive.

"How are you holding up? Are you ready to go?"

Fernando nods, and heaves himself over to the elevator while Juan gathers the hospital bag and tries to lock the apartment door with shaking hands. Fernando's back muscles are throbbing, a deep ache that radiates outward and around, and makes every step a stiff and awkward one. Halfway through the parking garage another contraction makes Fernando double over with a groan.

It's gridlocked traffic in London at this hour. Juan is swearing at other drivers and cutting between lanes but it still takes them almost forty-five minutes and two more contractions to get to the nearby hospital. Juan rings the obstetrician as soon as he pulls up and someone comes out to meet Fernando while Juan parks the car.

The orderly is very kind and friendly and he helps Fernando into a wheelchair before guiding him through a private entrance and into a private room on the delivery ward. He helps him settle in and a nurse comes in soon after to check him over. The baby has a steady heartbeat on the foetal monitor and all of Fernando's vital signs are looking good too.

The nurse tells him that the obstetrician will be by soon and she leaves him with a few forms to fill out. Juan appears just in time for Fernando to have a strong contraction and he all but runs into the room to hold his hand. He takes over the paperwork while Fernando clutches the rail of the hospital bed and grits his teeth against the deep ache within his body.

The next contraction wracks Fernando until sweat starts beading on his forehead. He's past the point of being excited by each cramp now. Now, he wants to throw up and cry and he just wants this baby out of him so badly.

"Are you going to stay with me?" Fernando asks tearfully.

Juan strokes Fernando's hair out of his face and nods.

"Of course. I won't leave unless you ask me to."

 

When the obstetrician comes in she smiles at Juan and Fernando.

"How are you doing? Can you describe your contractions for me?" She asks as she reads through the nurse's notes.

"It's twisting and it just gets tighter and tighter. It's like my entire torso is in a vice."

The doctor nods and puts the chart down, "That sounds normal. How is the pain for you on a scale of one to ten?"

"An eight."

Juan strokes Fernando's shoulder comfortingly while the doctor takes a look at the foetal heart monitor and checks the nurse's records to see how the labour has been progressing.

"Well, everything looks quite good here, but we've still got some more time before we'll be ready to deliver."

"More time? How much more??" Fernando asks desperately.

"Once things keep on going as they are, I'd say you'll be holding your little one in a few hours."

"Hours?!" Fernando cries. "No, no, not hours. You have to make this baby come now. Please."

"If you feel like the pain is too much, just say the word and we can put an epidural in for you. Both of your vital signs are great, so I'm not worried about any risks to you or the baby. If you want it, ask for it."

She makes a note on the chart and Fernando wails as another contraction rolls through him, slow and excruciating.

The doctor rubs his arm sympathetically, "I know it's overwhelming, Fernando, but you're going to be fine. It might be hours, or it might be a few minutes; baby will be here when the time is right. We can't rush that unless it's an emergency. You've got Juan here with you; he's going to tell you that everything will be okay. Just believe us. I know there's a lot happening right now, but it's all going to be fine."

 

The doctor leaves and Fernando cries. Juan leans in, kissing his forehead and holding him close, murmuring soothing words to him until the next contraction hits and Fernando is sobbing loudly. Blindly, he reaches for the call button, clicking it furiously until the nurse comes in.

"The epidural; I need it. Please," he begs.

After that, it's a breeze.

There's some light discomfort when he has to roll onto his side for the anaesthesiologist to insert the needle into his back, but she's experienced and efficient, making short work of it. He has another two contractions before the medication takes effect, but when it does, Fernando feels at peace. He's so relaxed that he manages to doze off while Juan talks to him.

 

He's not sure just how much time has passed, but suddenly the nurse is beside him, waking him up and telling him that it's time.

Juan is wearing blue scrubs over his clothes and a mesh blue cap over his hair. Fernando is the one with an eight pound baby trying to burst out of him, but Juan is the one with wide-eyes and a pale face. Still, he smiles encouragingly at Fernando and kisses him sweetly.

"Tell Mamá," Fernando mumbles, still shaking the exhaustion off.

The nurse is moving around at the foot of the bed getting Fernando prepared.

Juan nods, "She knows. I've been talking to her and your dad this whole time. They send all their love, and they wish they were here with you right now, but they're so excited to see you in a few days. And Olalla is here, she's out in the waiting room. She came to see you while you were sleeping. She wanted me to tell you that you can do this. My parents send their love too. So do the guys. The whole team is waiting for us to send them the first picture of the baby's face."

Fernando nods and he grips Juan's hand tightly, a wave of nervous fear crashing through him. Juan leans over, breathing him in softly, kissing his hair and his cheeks and his mouth.

"You're going to be okay. I'm right here," Juan says. "I'm not going to leave you. I love you. I love you so much, and I can't wait to love this baby as much as I love you."

When the obstetrician returns, she gets right down to business.

"What do you feel?"

"Just pressure. There's no pain."

She nods, washing her hands and slipping her gloves on, "Good. I need you to keep focusing on that pressure. If anything about it changes, or if you start feeling pain, you let me know right away."

Fernando nods and he concentrates on the feeling in his body; the strange numbness of his lower legs and the force that he knows should be excruciating, but isn't at all. And Juan is there, right next to him, squeezing his hand and talking to him non-stop, but Fernando's nerves turn it all into a muddle of sound and he doesn't know what the younger man is saying. The sound of his voice is comforting however, and Fernando tucks his head into the crook of Juan's neck when it all begins to overwhelm him.

For a moment there's nothing but pressure and the rumble of Juan's voice and that distinct hospital scent and then suddenly, suddenly it all falls away.

There's a strange tugging sensation and then a huge feeling of relief as the pressure disappears completely. Fernando hears Juan sob, and he raises his head from his shoulder in time to see the doctor hauling a blood and mucus-covered baby out of his body by the armpits. A small plastic bulb is inserted into the baby's mouth and nose and then a strong, high-pitched wail is the only thing Fernando can hear.

"Congratulations, Fernando. You have a beautiful little boy."

Fernando reaches out dazedly as they wipe the baby off hurriedly and pass him over.

Juan is crying, staring at the two of them, but Fernando can't tear his eyes away from the tiny infant in his arms.

This is his. This is his son. His baby boy, who slept and tumbled and hiccupped inside of him for months. This little being turned his whole life inside out, but now, with his tiny, warm body pressed against Fernando's bare chest, everything feels perfect. He would do it again and again and again. He would relieve every agony of this past year just to live in this moment for the rest of his life.

 _"Mateo,"_ he says, and then he's crying too.

Fernando is so entranced by his son that he doesn't even know when his placenta comes out. He thinks he hears someone calling his name, and when he glances up, the doctor is smiling fondly at him.

"I have to clamp the cord now."

Fernando nods and adjusts his arms to that the doctor can place a clamp close to Mateo's belly. The doctor then turns to Juan, offering him the scissors.

"Would you like to do the honours, Juan?"

And Juan, who is still crying, although noiselessly now, stares at the pale, twisting cord.

"I…uh…I…"

"Do it," Fernando says. "Please."

He can give Juan this much, he thinks. He's been there for him through everything and he wants everything, so Fernando can give him this.

He watches as Juan, with shaking hands, moves the curved scissors to where the doctor indicates and snips through the cord. When the nurse whisks away the placenta in a kidney dish and the doctor is satisfied that everything is as it should be, she takes off her gloves and bids them goodbye.

Fernando reaches out with one arm to stroke Juan's cheek.

"Hold him," he offers, carefuly passing the baby over to Juan.

He watches with irrepressible fondness and _love_ as Juan cries more, nuzzling the fine strands of hair on Mateo's temple.

"I've waited so long to meet you," Juan chokes out. "I'm so happy you're finally here."

 

The nurse returns to help Fernando feed Mateo before taking him to the nursery for a bath and to take a few measurements, such as weight, length and head circumference. Juan sits on the edge of Fernando's bed; it's just the two of them now. The room, which had seemed so crowded and busy before, is now empty and quiet.

"I'm so proud of you," Juan says. He wipes the tears from Fernando's face with his thumbs and then laughs when Fernando does the same to him.

"Thank you," Fernando replies. He's exhausted and his emotions are all over the place and he can't stop himself from rambling. "Thank you for everything; for being here, for always being here, all the time. You're so good to me, even when you shouldn't be, and I don’t deserve it, but I want it. I want all of it. I want you here. I…Juan, I—"

Juan cuts him off with a soft press of lips, "I know. You don't need to say it. I know. You deserve every good thing, Fernando. And I'm glad to be a part of that."

 

Fernando falls asleep again, and when he wakes up next, Mateo is in a bassinet next to his bed and Olalla is staring adoringly at the baby from her chair.

"Oly?"

"Hey there, Super-Dad. I heard you did great."

Fernando smiles tiredly at her before glancing around the room.

"Where is Juan?"

"He refused to let them serve you hospital food," she laughs softly. "So he went out to get you something."

She helps him adjust the bed so that he's sitting up a bit more, and then she moves her chair closer to him.

"How are you feeling?"

"Exhausted. I can't believe you did this twice."

"It's worth it though, isn't it?"

And looking over at where Mateo is sleeping, swaddled in blankets, he nods.

"I hope he looks like you," Olalla says.

It suddenly strikes Fernando that that isn't a guarantee; that Mateo could look like someone else, someone he hopes he never sees again.

Olalla must see the expression of shock on his face because she cringes, "Sorry. Sorry, I shouldn't have brought it up."

Fortunately Juan enters just then with steaming cartons of food, and Fernando is distracted from the uncomfortable conversation by the sudden hunger he feels. The three of them share pasta and chicken and veggies while they chat quietly. When the meal is over, Olalla bids Fernando goodbye and promises to come back tomorrow with the kids so that they can meet their new brother. Fernando cries at that, kissing her hand over and over until she rolls her eyes and he can't help but laugh at himself.

Juan clears away the food boxes and at the first sound of Mateo's gurgling, he rushes over to pick him up. He puts the baby on Fernando's chest, and Fernando can't explain the rush of affection he feels when Mateo snuggles closer to him.

Juan takes what seems like hundreds of pictures. He sends some to Fernando's parents, who video call them immediately. He sends some to the guys at Chelsea, some to the guys from the Spanish NT, and some to his own family.

Fernando just smiles. He smiles for the pictures, he smiles at Juan, he smiles at Mateo. Everything just feels so perfect. His epidural was removed a couple of hours after Mateo's birth, and now Fernando can feel a deep, dull pain in his lower body. Even that can't diminish his joy. Mateo wriggles against him, staring up with deep, dark eyes and Fernando feels totally in love.

He thinks back to what Olalla said about Mateo's resemblance, and he feels safe and comfortable enough to bring it up with Juan.

Juan looks up from where he has been gently stroking the baby's cheek, and he's quiet for a long moment before he responds.

"It's something I thought about before; not now, but a couple months ago when you were going to find out whether he was a boy or a girl. Wondering about that made me think about other things, like what he would look like." Juan smiles lovingly, "I hope he looks like you, because you're the most beautiful man in the whole world. But I've considered that he might not. I think he's still too young to look very much like anyone right now. We'll only know for sure as he gets older, but I said something to you that day, when you didn't find out his sex and you called me from the car, do you remember?"

Fernando shakes his head, half owing to the cloudiness of exhaustion and the fading epidural drugs and half to the terrible forgetfulness of pregnancy-brain.

"I told you that I would love him no matter what, and I meant that," Juan reminds him. "I still mean that. I pray that he looks like you, but I'm not going to love him any less if he doesn't. He's your son, and he's healthy and he's perfect just the way he is. I'm going to love him forever, with all of my heart."

Fernando never knows how Juan does it. He's known him for years and he still can't grasp this man's depth of thought and compassion, but he's so grateful. He needed to hear those words too.

"I never considered that he wouldn't look like me, but even if...it doesn't matter. I've loved him for so long already, there's nothing that could ever make me stop."

Juan kisses Fernando's forehead and the older man leans into the touch. Mateo is nestled snugly in his arms enjoying the warmth from their bodies. It still feels so unreal that this is his little boy, to nurture and support for the rest of his life. He thinks about all the moments he has to look forward to with him; first steps and first words, teaching him to play football, cuddling him through fevers, telling him bedtimes stories, laughing at cartoons and helping him with homework.

It feels absurd now that he suffered even for a single minute of his pregnancy when all he has now is a lifetime of unconditional love to shower upon his son. He thinks briefly of the man who gave him this gift and wonders if he knows what a fool he is for giving up something so magnificent so thoughtlessly.

Fernando thinks in silence for a while longer. He's not bothered with the past anymore. Along with Nora and Leo, Mateo is Fernando's present and future now. It feels good. He feels renewed. He feels reborn, and the irony of that happening in a hospital labour and delivery ward isn't lost on him.

After some more quiet contemplation, Fernando kisses Juan.

"I want to give you something that nobody has ever given that man."

"What's that?"

"A son."

**Author's Note:**

> It's the moment we've all been waiting for!! Baby is heeerrrreeee! I was a little vague on the details around the exact birthing process, because tbh I don't really know where exactly I stand on that. In an Mpreg!verse, it _should_ be physically possible for natural delivery, but my poor brain, trapped in 2018 reality, still says **HOW THOUGH???** I hope skimping on the details wasn't too much of a cop out, and that you still got to enjoy the arduous labour and delivery process all the same.
> 
> Additional Mystery Dad hints, in case some of you still haven't figured it out yet. **Please remember this story is set in 2012** so take that into account when considering potential suspects ;)
> 
> How is there only ONE MORE PART LEFT in this series?!?! That's wild you guys. I've really enjoyed sharing this fic with you, so I hope the final installment will round things off nicely. Thanks for all of your hits, kudos and comments! They've been very encouraging throughout!!


End file.
